


On A New Path

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen, Remix, Remix Duello 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius remembers his father talking about Death Eaters, and remembers that sometimes marks don't fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A New Path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishafel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishafel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [There's Got to Be a Morning After](https://archiveofourown.org/works/106051) by [ishafel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishafel/pseuds/ishafel). 



The first time Scorpius heard of Death Eaters, he had been five years old. Richard had mentioned it at his father's funeral, had whispered that he was afraid of the mark on his arm. He could still see it behind his eyes, and Scorpius had said that it just a drawing, nothing to be afraid of.

He hadn't known any better, and he hadn't known Gregory Goyle all that well.

The first time his father had caught them playing at Death Eaters, Scorpius had seen the disappointment and shame in his eyes. It had been a startling sight. At seven, Scorpius still believed his father knew everything, still believed that he hung the moon. Hearing that Death Eaters had gone to Azkaban had been terrifying and stayed with him for years after. He didn't think that Richard remembered later; his memories of his father had already faded and all he knew was Draco and Astoria as parents.

Scorpius remembered. He remembered the screaming when Gregory's alcohol-soaked body had been found, had remembered his mother's whispers that he had never been the same after Eleanor had died in childbirth. He remembered Richard's fear of the garish mark on Gregory's arm, the mark his own father had. Draco hid it beneath long sleeves no matter the weather, not wanting to antagonize the outside world. He had gone to prison and he had served his time, but he knew he wasn't forgiven.

Scorpius knew that the sins of the fathers sometimes were visited on the sons. It always happened in fairy tales. Sometimes sons had to avenge fathers, sometimes they had to be the ones to bring the family name back from the brink of disaster.

He could feel the eyes of every child on him when he was called up to be sorted at Hogwarts. Every child knew the story about Draco Malfoy letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, that he was supposed to have killed Albus Dumbledore. He had been put forth as the very example of an evil Slytherin, and the whispers started as soon as Scorpius sat down in front of Headmistress McGonagall. Her eyes were kindly, and he could tell that she was one of those that were willing to let the past stay where it was.

"Ah," the sorting hat said as soon as it was put down onto his head. "The son of two very Slytherin parents." His voice seemed to laugh at Scorpius. "This isn't a very hard decision, then."

"Put me somewhere else," Scorpius told the hat sharply. If he was sorted into Slytherin, nothing would change. The whispers would follow, the eyes would stare, and everyone would be waiting for him to unlock the doors to the enemy just as his father had done. No one seemed to remember that his father had been a _child,_ and he had been threatened. Not every child knew what to do. Not every child could be a hero.

"Oh?" This seemed to interest the sorting hat. "Where did you think I was going to put you?"

"You and everyone else say I should be in Slytherin. I don't want to be there."

"Why not?"

"I'm going to be more than what my father was. I'm going to be more than a whisper behind his back." Scorpius could see the whispering faces in front of him, the large eyes that were waiting for any hint that something was going wrong. "I'm going to be better than the past."

"Strong words for a boy."

"I know too much."

The sorting hat seemed to ponder those words. "There is much in you, young Malfoy. I had sorted all of your ancestors, and none sought to question me. None wanted to change my decision. Why do you suppose that is?"

"They were repeating whatever their father had done before them. They didn't think about it. I am. I've done nothing _but_ think about it. I want to be different."

"Well... Perhaps not _too_ different. Red and gold are not your colors."

Before Scorpius could ask what the hat meant, it shouted "Ravenclaw!"

"Thank you," he told the hat, taking it gently from his head and giving it back to Headmistress McGonagall. It seemed to smile at him before he left the stage.

There was no turning back, but he didn't want to. He remembered his father's drawn face, the livid mark on Draco's arm. It wasn't pride that kept that mark there but shame.

It was time to bring pride back to the Malfoy name, and Scorpius was going to do that.

 

The End


End file.
